The Last Attempt
by kitsunecat
Summary: In one last attempt to save Sherlock John calls the doctor for assistance. This is a one-shot I did for English. Enjoy!


**This story was edited by Horsegirl4goldie this was a small one-shot I made for my English class. Please enjoy!**

John Watson was a former military doctor who had served in Afghanistan. He was sent home because of an injury he received during the war. After being sent home he had spent a good two years sharing a flat with a man named Sherlock Holmes.  
"Had" being the operative term; one year ago Sherlock had jumped off a building and committed suicide. John was still in a state of lamentation. The trauma had caused his Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder to worsen as well according to his therapist.  
As John mused over the shock of his loss, he remembered that he had a friend who would be arriving any minute. He returned his concentration to the book he was reading. After a while, he glanced up at the clock to check the time. Thirty more minutes. He looked back down to his book. A few minutes later he checked the clock again. Fifteen more minutes. This aggravated him. Why couldn't he have set the time sooner?  
He fecklessly flung his book onto the side table and went into the kitchen to prepare some tea for his guest. He paused as he went to select a tea bag. What kind of tea did his guest like? John pursed his lips and reached into the cabinet and pulled out a box of tea. He would make a pot of Earl Gray. It was a common tea so John hoped that his friend would like it as well. After John finished boiling the pot, he pulled out some condiments and placed them on a white tray with the tea.  
A moment later there was a knock at the door. John smiled. Not a moment too late and not a second too soon. He walked to the door and opened it wide. He was met by a man with wild brown hair and a happy-go-lucky smile. The man wore a long brown trench coat with a pinstripe suit underneath.  
John stuck his hand out. "Doctor, it's good to see you again."  
The Doctor nodded as he shook hands. "Yes, it's been awhile, hasn't it John?"  
"Yes," John paused. "Would you like some tea?" John opened the door and let the Doctor enter.  
"Ya, I would love some! It's been awhile since I slowed down and had some tea."  
They sat down and talked for quite a while. The Doctor took over half the bowl of sugar and poured it into his tea, mentioning how he hated bitterness. John didn't think that tea could get very bitter but he dismissed as one of the Doctor's quirks.  
The Doctor sat back with a little contented sigh, getting comfortable. "So, John, why did you call me here?"  
John paused. "I don't know what you mean."  
"Oh, yes you do. I can see the look in your eyes; you want me for something."  
John made a motion toward the teapot. "Would you like some more?"  
The Doctor tilted his head in frustration. "John, please stop beating around the bush! Tell me what you want."  
John bit his lip. After a moment he said, in a small voice, "Please... go back and save Sherlock."  
The Doctor's eyes grew sad. "You know I can't do that. It's a fixed point in time; I can't do anything about it." The Doctor gave a stilted smile and opened his mouth to change the subject but John cut him off.  
"Please, just this once! That's all I'm asking." John's eyes teared up and the Doctor could see just how fragile his friend was. John struggled to control his voice as he said, "Please, Doctor, bring Sherlock back. Bring Sherlock back to me." John was crying now. Hot tears left his eyes and rolled down his flushed cheeks.  
The Doctor leaned forward. "I can't, John. I wish I could but I can't. I have lost people too. There are so many times I've wanted to go back, but I can't. Amy, Rory, Donna, Rose... I wanted to save all of them, but I can't..." The Doctor's voice shook as a sinking feeling of dread spread over him. He could feel the tears start to prick at his eyes.  
"All right, I understand," John said as he looked down at his shaking cup of tea. He didn't understand. He didn't understand at all. Why couldn't the Doctor save Sherlock? Why couldn't he save his own friends? Why was this Time Lord, this amazing person who had done so much for the world, powerless to save his own friends?  
"Why can't you make one single wanton decision this once?" John was yelling before he could think. "Why do you let it subjugate you?"  
"Because bad things happen to the people who do!" The Doctor snapped. John blinked; he had never heard the Doctor shout. They sat there in silence.  
"I'm sorry about that..." John began to gather the tea set from the Doctor.  
"No, no, I understand. You're in a state of grieving. I've been there." John made an allusion to the Doctor that he had heard him and picked up the tea tray.  
On the way to kitchen John's emotions began to take hold. His eyes were still slightly blurred and his hands were weak and shaking. Before he knew it he had dropped the tea tray to the floor, breaking the pot and the cups with it. The glass had disseminated on the floor before him and the tea was slowly spreading everywhere. The Doctor sprang to his feet.  
"Are you all right?" He asked John as he made his way to him around the glass.  
"Huh," John was still in a bit of a daze as he answered, "Oh, yes, I'm... fine..." His broken heart gave a painful throb at the lie.  
The Doctor gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Ok, come on, let's pick it up." John nodded and walked past the mess to get a towel and a grocery bag.  
After they finished cleaning, the Doctor said his goodbyes to John. John saw him out and closed the door behind him, hearing the unique whooshing of the police box begin not long after its owner had left. John bit his lip, completely at a loss for what to do. He climbed up the stairs and lay down on his bed. He would think of something tomorrow.


End file.
